


Annum

by anotetofollow



Series: Illustrated Fanfic Commissions [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Pre-Trespasser, illustrated fic commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 16:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12193518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotetofollow/pseuds/anotetofollow
Summary: Dorian and David Trevelyan return to Skyhold on the anniversary of Corypheus's defeat.Illustrated fanfic commission, with art by tumblr user @noctuaalba!David Trevelyan belongs to tumblr user @tessa1972





	Annum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tessa1972](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tessa1972/gifts).



> A joint commission from me and @noctuaalba for @tessa1972 - I had a great time working on this, thank you so much!

“Well,” David said, closing the door of his chamber behind him. “That was something.”

“It certainly was.” Dorian was in the process of uncorking a bottle of Antivan wine. He poured them both a glass, then moved to sit on the large sofa by the hearth. A fire already roared there, chasing the winter chill from the room.

David took a seat beside Dorian, accepting the wine gratefully. He had already consumed a fair amount that evening, but a night of dancing and dealing with the Orlesian nobility had gone a long way towards sobering him up.

Dorian touched his glass to David’s. “To us,” he said.

“To us,” David echoed. Those two words had become a common toast in the past year, but tonight they held a special significance. They had danced together in front of the assembled court of Halamshiral, gathered at the Winter Palace to celebrate the anniversary of Corypheus’s defeat. David had been nervous, but his anxiety had melted away when he stepped out onto the polished floor with Dorian on his arm. There may as well have been no one else in the room, so focused was he on his partner.

A twinge of pain in David’s hand distracted him from these thoughts, and he gritted his teeth and flexed his fingers against the sudden ache.

“Are you alright, Amatus?” Dorian asked, his dark brows knitting with worry.

“I’m fine,” David replied. It was only half a lie. That time it had not been especially bad, but recently these sudden stabs of pain had grown more and more frequent. The skin around the anchor’s mark had grown dark, like a septic wound, and he had taken to wearing gloves to cover it. He did not wish to dwell on that tonight, though.

“What were you talking to Comtesse Lutetia about, anyway?” David said, changing the subject. “Your conversation seemed rather… engrossing.”

Dorian waved his hand dismissively. “She cornered me. Had a plethora of questions about Tevinter butterflies, as though I would know the first thing about them.”

“Don’t you?” David grinned over the rim of his glass. “I thought you knew everything about everything.”

“We have discovered a rare gap in my education, it would seem.”

“Whatever will people say?” David moved his arm across the back of the sofa, draping it lazily across Dorian’s shoulders.

“No more than they say already,” Dorian snorted indecorously. “My lack of interest in lepidopterology is hardly the most scandalous thing about me. I think my being a wicked Tevinter altus rather covers that.”

“Of course,” David nodded. “What was it that Fereldan fellow called you at dinner last month?”

“‘A purveyor of blood magic and pagan rituals’,” Dorian said. He laughed at the memory, but his eyes were thoughtful.

David took a sip from his glass, looking at Dorian intently. He knew that pressing the mage to reveal what was on his mind would garner no results; he responded better to an attentive audience than to endless questioning.

“I had thought,” Dorian began, measuring his words carefully, “that I might have seen something of a shift in attitudes by now. The Venatori are crippled. Maevaris is pushing for reforms in the Senate. Yet to hear people talk outside of Tevinter you would think we were all storybook villains.”

“These things take time,” David said. “There are many who still speak openly against the Inquisition, despite all we’ve done for Thedas. Changing attitudes on that scale takes years. Decades, even.”

Dorian did not look comforted by this. “I had hoped for a start. That  _ is  _ why I left Tevinter, after all.”

At his words David felt his blood run cold. “You’re doing great work here,” he said. “Look at this evening. How many influential people were there? You made an impression on them. They know you were instrumental in defeating Corypheus.”

David hoped that his words were convincing. What he said was true; Dorian’s involvement with the Inquisition had done nothing but improve Tevinter’s reputation. Yet that was not his only motive for encouraging Dorian to stay.

For the past several months Dorian had been speaking of his homeland more and more frequently. Despite his insistence that he would remain at the Inquisitor’s side no matter what happened, it was clear to David that part of Dorian’s heart remained in Tevinter. The desire to improve the lot of his people still drove him, and it was becoming increasingly clear that he could only do so much while he remained at Skyhold.

But remain he did. His unflinching loyalty kept him there, as did his love for David. Sometimes the Inquisitor wondered if it was fair, Dorian staying with him at the expense of his own ambitions. Those thoughts did Dorian a disservice, however, and David knew it; if the mage decided he was needed elsewhere he could not be kept from leaving. His moral conviction was partially what had attracted David to him in the first place.

“Don’t worry,” Dorian said, his hand cupping the back of David’s neck. “I’m not about to go charging back to Tevinter on a whim. Not without you, anyway.”

His mouth quirked into a smile a moment before David leaned forward to kiss him. He could taste the wine on his lips, sweet and rich.

“Regardless,” Dorian said when they finally broke apart. “Who will stop you getting yourself into trouble if not me?” He took a lock of David’s hair between his fingers, toying with it absently. “Sera? Varric?”

David laughed. “Well. There is that.”

The two of them talked for a long time that night, not retiring to bed until the sky was paling on the horizon. They spoke of small things. Inconsequential things. They reminisced about their time pursuing Corypheus and gossiped about their friends. It was simpler than speaking of their fears for one another. That would have to come, of course, and they both knew it. But not until later.

For now they were satisfied with what they had. A pleasant evening, and wine, and one another.


End file.
